Busy Signal Going Off

Yikes! I didn't realize I had gone so long without blogging. I've been very busy. I finally got out of the hay field, and then I had a fourteen year-old girl wanting to stay with me to help halter-break the foals. She was with me all last week, and she kept me BUSY! I forgot how active young teenagers could be, since moving home and away from my South Cheyenne redneck kids. Besides, I had to cook regular meals again, which I am out of the habit of doing.
We played with the foals, and she jumped aboard and rode any of the grown horses that would stand still for her to get on. She's a pretty good rider for no more than she gets to practice, and she actually has her own horse. She just doesn't live near where her horse does, so she doesn't get to spend much time with it.
We worked with the two larger foals the first day she was here, and they did pretty well, considering they were haltered only once before this. Here are some pictures of Marissa with those two.

However, we had a wreck with the smallest foal, Tiny, on the second day. She was being a little pill, and resisting the halter. Marissa was handling her as I led Tiny's dam, Jana, around the enclosure to try to get her to follow mama. Suddenly, Tiny sat back on the rope, and then reared up on her hind legs. Marissa let the rope go, and the foal lost her balance, falling over backwards and bonking her head on the ground. She floundered there, having involuntary muscle spasms and her head and neck were all out of control, so I ran to try to aright her. I thought she had broken her neck or back at the worst, and maybe put her eye out, too, as it instantly swelled shut. Her tongue was lolling around and she was having trouble breathing. I grabbed her tongue and held it so she wouldn't swallow it.
Marissa kept her cool throughout and I had her hold the filly's head up while I ran to get the vet box. By the time I got back, Tiny had come to, jumped to her feet, and was whinnying for her mama. Jana, who is not a very good mother, just continued munching on weeds in the corral through the whole episode.
I gave Tiny some Bantamine for her headache and she walked around very slowly for a couple of days with a lump on her head and her eye almost swollen shut. She's very cute, but she's a little fighter. I guess it's that cutting horse blood in her. My daughter has worked with cutting horses a lot and she says fighting is bred into them because they have to have that instinct to cut out and hold a cow. Tiny finally started paying attention to the lead rope after knocking herself silly and scaring me into a fit.
Here's a picture of Marissa goofing around on JR, my five year-old stallion. She was riding him around bareback with a halter. She rode into the barn and as she was coming out, she reached up, grabbed one of the exposed pipe rafters, and let JR go out from under her. Well, almost. He stopped as soon as he felt her lift off him and looked back as if to say, "What's going on back there?" He stood very still and she slid back down onto his back, and then did the whole thing again so I could get a picture. He did exactly the same thing the second time. When he felt her come off his back, he stood still as a statue, probably not wanting to step on her if she fell under him. That's the kind of horses you want!

Holy Cow, It's Hot!

Summer is here with a vengeance. It's not quite as hot this summer as it was last, but it is hotter than I like it to be. We've had a few near 100 degree days and this coming Saturday is supposed to be over 100. At least it is cooling off at night this summer, unlike last summer. Last summer there were lots of nights that didn't go below 80. This summer it is going down around 60. Another argument against global warning.
I finally made it out of the hay field. We put up over 1000 big round bales of hay, each weighing around 1,300 pounds. Hay! Tons and tons of hay. It is the stuff Wyoming winters are made of.
I missed the 4th of July and Rawhide Days in Lusk because of being in the hayfield.
When I first came to Niobrara County, there were no Rawhide Days. A long time ago, Lusk had a writer in it's midst who came up with this romantic tale about cowboys and Indians, settlers, soldiers and bloodshed. It became a large outdoor play that was re-enacted every year before an audience, complete with horses, wagons, tipis, gunfire, milk cows and chickens. After many years of production, it was discontinued when interest flagged.
A few years after I moved here, it was resurrected. My friends and coworkers were all talking about it and signing up to be in it. Having never seen it, I didn't know exactly what it was, but they talked me into going to a rehearsal with them. I was just breaking Gremlin (black and white pony referred to in many other articles) who was about three at the time. My ex advised me I didn't have a horse that would "do the pageant," as he had seen it in it's earlier years. But I took Gremlin in to the rehearsal anyway, because it would be good for his training. I thought I would maybe sign up to be in the Cavalry, because I had a great big part-thoroughbred bay gelding I could use for that part. When I rode up to the grandstands on Gremlin, they asked me what part I wanted to play and I said, "I want to be in the Cavalry."
They said, "But you're an Indian!"
"No," I said, "I have another horse."
"You're an INDIAN," they stated emphatically, so I was an Indian for about ten years on Gremlin. He was great the first year as a three year old and everything was new to him, but the second and third years, he bucked me off. Then after a few years, he got so he knew the cues better than most of the Indians. He carried my son as an Indian for a couple years, and then carried my daughter one year as Mother Featherleggs and was a little confused by the change in roles.
The Pageant is amazing to me in two respects, one being that it continues to fill the grandstands after all these years, and that it involves a cast of hundreds, counting both people and animals, and it goes off without a hitch usually, and now with minimal rehearsals. I have never personally witnessed any fights or arguing about the Pageant itself, although I have witnessed a few "drunken Indians."

Here's a picture I took of my favorite Indian. Teresa plays the part of the Indian maiden who gets shot by a hot head from the wagon train, then doubles back to ride as an Indian warrior, then jumps off her horse and onto the travois to be carried out to the funeral pyre. She does get her revenge! She's an expert horsewoman.